


Friendly Favor

by whitachi



Category: Persona 3
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitachi/pseuds/whitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things you can only ask a close friend for. Akihiko is, if nothing else, a close friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Favor

She was as businesslike about it as she was with anything, and Akihiko really wished he could say that was what put him off most about the whole experience. 

It was mid-January when she'd come to him, alone and late in the dorms when things were strange enough as is. She'd put a hand across her chest and her cheeks had turned red, which was more than enough to cause him alarm. 

"Mitsuru, what is it?" he asked, and he could see her bite the inside of her lip. Worrisome. 

"There's not long left," she said, and though her cheeks were flushed, she met his eyes with the heaviness of any mission. "And while we all have the greatest intentions and hopes, there is no guarantee of what the outcome will be. And I..." Her hand tightened against her elbow, and she looked away from him. 

"What is it?" Akihiko knew what the answer was, but he also knew that it was his role to ask the question. Only one of the many things he'd never hesitate to do for her. 

"If I am going to die, I don't want to do so untouched," she said it without flinching, and unfolded her arms from such a delicate posture. Her hands stayed at her side, and she held herself straight as she continued. "Perhaps at a time like this, such a thing should not be considered of any priority, but.... You are a man I trust, Akihiko, so I request your... assistance." 

Now it was his turn to have blood rush to his cheeks. "A-anything you ask, Mitsuru. You know that." 

Within the hour they were together in his dorm room, he on his back on his bed, and her seated across his thighs, her skirt raised high on her legs, and the first three buttons of her shirt loose. 

"Mitsuru, I--" Akihiko struggled to speak, even as he brought one hand to her leg, slipping up her bare skin, beneath her skirt. 

"I know," Mitsuru breathed, and only a moments tension was allowed to cross her face. She bent down, then, to brush her lips across his. Akihiko brought his hand up in what could almost be seen as a gesture of self defense if it were not for the way his fingers cupped her breast, and the way his thumb curled over her nipple through the fabric. 

He kissed her back, wet and soft, and she choked on a whimper. He undid the rest of the buttons of her blouse as his other hand threaded into the soft heaviness of her hair. "I want to do this," Akihiko nearly gasped, as his hand fell on the intricate lace of her bra, the heat of her flesh beneath, and the thrill of her pulse waiting just at his fingertips. "For you, Mitsuru," he added, and that was enough to bring her kiss to him again. 

They could have done it better; each element of their coupling could have been choreographed and perfected. The little awkwardnesses made it better, she thought in the end, the way her skirt never made it off, but only ended up rucked up around her waist; the way her underwear stayed hooked around her ankle, despite her best efforts to shake it to the floor; the way Akihiko gasped, and shivered, and grabbed for all the wrong places. Mitsuru guided his fingers, guided him home, and it was worth it, all so worth it. Even if they were going to live beyond the next two weeks, she couldn't have wanted this to happen any other way. 

When they were spent, Mitsuru settled on top of him, keeping him still within her, even as he went soft. Akihiko proved himself the gentleman she knew him for, and drew her skirt down over her rear, and the blankets over her body. 


End file.
